


Similitude

by CrazyPinkPenguin



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Adult Content, Blood and Gore, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Human Trafficking, I Don't Even Know, I'll add more tags as i go, I'm making this up as I go along, My attempt at a Punisher fic, Oral Sex, Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-07 17:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyPinkPenguin/pseuds/CrazyPinkPenguin
Summary: "Hey!" I push at his arm in an attempt to dislodge him."Ah, Jesus Christ." He mutters and pulls his hand away from my breast like I'd just burnt him. I got the impression he hadn't meant to do that.Perhaps until now he'd assumed I was a man.At least he was a gentlemen while we were trying to kill each other.- Frank Castle/OFC. Adult Content. No under 18's!





	1. The One With The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> I loooooved The Punisher and having watched it all, I needed to do something to fill the void so I started writing this. I have no idea where it's going to go; I'm making it up as I go along so should be fun!
> 
> Warnings for this story: Graphic sex, Violence, Gore, Noncon, and bad editing by yours truly.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

  _Whatever it takes_ **  
** 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins **  
** I do whatever it takes **  
** 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains ****  
Whatever it takes  
You take me to the top I'm ready for  
Whatever it takes  
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins  
I do what it takes

_\- Imagine Dragons, Whatever It Takes_

* * *

  **The One With The Mission**

     Smoke clouds around the large chandelier, the decorative light hanging strong from the high ceiling of the hall. I concentrate on it, taking in his sparkle and regal feel. It was a hell of a better site than the cigar-smoking ass-hole eyeing us like a child in a sweet store.

     Of course, I shouldn't complain. Knew exactly what I was getting into when I let myself get caught by these pricks but that didn't mean I found their presences  _at all_  tolerable.

     Quite the opposite actually.

     He inhales, taking in another lungful of cigar. The lug alone was probably worth more than all the belongings I'd ever owned.

     "They're very pretty," he comments off-handedly.

     I keep my eyes up in an attempt to keep myself grounded, flexing my wrists in the ties behind my back. A small breeze brushed past me, caressing the stockings covering my legs, and my naked arms and stomach.

     Damn underwear and their lack of ability to provide warmth.

     They sure were pretty though.

     A girl to my left whimpers and a pang shoots through me. She didn't want to be here, but then again neither did the other girls to my right, or the girls who'd been trafficked before her. At least these ones had a chance, provided everything goes as planned.

 _The plan_ , I remind myself, sitting straighter and adjusting my shoulders. I needed him to pick me while not being too obvious and I couldn't imagine I looked very appealing with my slouch and eyes elsewhere.

     I lick my lips, gaze forward, expression hopefully convoying a mixture of fire, flirtation with a pinch of fear.

     I need to stand out while not appearing too eager.

     His eyes slowly travel across us, lingering longer on feminine curves and bumps. The cigar smokes between two fingers. Henchmen stand either side of him, hands behind their back.

     When his gaze lands on me, my lips quirk and I duck my head down, hiding behind my hair.

     Playful.

     Shy.

     Biting my lip, I tilt my head so I know he sees it.

     A 'mm' of approval rumbles through his chest.

_Got'cha, asshole._

     "Where'd you get that one?" He asks, voice gruff.

     "She was at the club, boss. Got into a fight with her boyfriend. Wasn't too hard for Vince to convince her to leave with 'im." One of the henchmen explains with a heavy  accent.

     Mentally I roll my eyes.

     "I do love a good red-head." Boss-man is humming again. As if he has all the time in the work, the overweight fuck brings the cigar up to his lips and takes a long lug. Seconds tick by and then he's breathing out the smoke, nodding. "Take her to my room. Get the other girls ready to be sold."

     I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back a smile.

_Show time._

* * *

     By the time the door is closed, fuck fat is on me like a fly on shit.

     It wasn't the first time I'd been in this situation and most likely wouldn't be the last. Still, bile rises from my stomach to my throat and I place a hand on my chest as if that will stem it.

     Thin lips caress my neck, chubby fingers squeezing my hips hard enough to bruise. He's panting like a dog.

     Urgh.

     They'd removed the ties binding my hands and I push him back from me, smiling teasingly. With my other hand I do a  _no-no_  motion with my index finger. "I know you're the boss and all-" I giggle for effect. "-but why don't we try this my way?"

     I have to tread carefully.

     His men won't be far from the room, if not directly outside.

     Boss-man groans loudly, in excitement or frustration I'm not sure. "Ok, ok."

     He pulls away reluctantly and I push him back until he reaches the chair sitting in the corner of the room. He plops down in it and it creaks loudly.

     I'm surprised it didn't break.

     "Oh yeah," he breathes. "You giving me a dance, doll face?"

     "Hmm." I smile. "Something like that." Backing up, I sway my hips as I head towards the bathroom door, finding a robe hanging on the back of it.

     "What ya doing, baby?" He's curious.

     I slide the robe's tie free and turn around, presenting it to him. "What'd you think?"

     His breath hitches, eyes darken. Good. He's into it. Most powerful men are. "I don't know..."

     I hold back a snort. So predictable. I walk towards him slowly, smirking, slipping the fabric between my digits. "Wanna know what I think?" Reaching him, I kneel down, hand on each of his knees, rope stretched between them. I lower my voice, leaning forward and looking at him from under my eyelashes. He's visibly affected by it, staring at my cleavage. "I think bad,  _bad_ boys deserve to be punished."

     Oh, if only he knew how ironic that was.

     He gulps, small budge in his trousers. He wasn't packing much, I note with a mental snort. "I-I..." he struggles.

     "C'mon, handsome. Your boys are right outside," I remind him, knowing the reason he's holding back is because he knows how stupid it is to allow himself to be tied up by someone he kidnapped.

     Others hadn't been as savvy and had died quicker because of it.

     It was the push he needed. Nodding frantically, he tells me, "Ok, ok. Just hurry! I'm gonna bust a nut before we start. Shit."

     I manage to hold back my disgust and get to work, making sure they're extra tight. I don't feel an once of sympathy when he mutters a curse of pain.

     One  _thump_ sounds from the hall, muffled by the door.

_Ah, just in time._

     "What was that?" The Fuck mutters, starting to panic. It was too late for him though.

     Another  _thump_ follows and I stand, turning my back on him. "Don't bother making any noise," I tell him casually. "Anyone close enough to hear you is currently unconscious."

     "You bitch!" He hisses. "You planned this!"

     I open the door, peek my head out.

     Hallway clear.

     I look down.

     Two grunts laid face-first on the floor. I grab one by the foot and pull him inside, quickly followed by the second. Meanwhile, Fuck-face calls me every name under the sun.

     I close and lock the door behind me and turn my attention to the bodies, patting them down. I disarm them, claiming one of the AK's as my own. Slipping the strap over my head, I twist it so the weapon rests against my back, out of my way. Next I find a knife hidden in grunt number Two's boot.

     "You'll regret this! They'll kill you!" He continues to threaten me.

     I don't even spare him a glance.

     It's unlikely for the henchmen to wake up any time soon but I didn't want to risk it, especially with my attention elsewhere. So I slip the blade into their ear with a  _squelch_ , making sure their pulses are gone before turning my back on them.

     "Antonio Marcelli the Third." As I speak, I head back over to the bathroom door and remove the AK temporarily so I can slip on the robe. "You're Fourty-Eight years old, two kids, dead wife, and one of the under-bosses to Red Ring." I step in front of him, twirling the knife before pointing it at him. "And you're going to tell me who runs it and where I can find them."

     He spits at me, a glob of it landing on my cheek.

     I heave a sigh, wiping it off with the sleeve of the robe. "Ya know," I'm irritated now; mostly at myself. Should have been fast enough to move out the way. " _That's_ how tuberculosis is spread."

     "Bitch!" He sneers. "You think I haven't been in this position before? Well think again! I can handle anything you throw at me."

     I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Oh no. You're  _wrong._  You haven't handled anything like me before."

     Kneeling, I grip his right hand and force it flat against the chairs arm before turning my attention to his middle finger. Bringing the knife up, I press the pointed end at his fingertip, placing light pressure. "Did you know the density of feeling receptors in a fingertip is Two-thousand, Five hundred? That's the densest area of nerve receptors in the  _whole_  body."

     He stares at me, a mixture of fear, anger and confusion. "What the fuck does that even mean, you stupid cunt?"

     I blink.

     God, what an idiot.

     "Ok then..." I say slowly. "In simple terms – this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

     I press forward and he screams, the sound making it obvious to me that he  _had not_ dealt with this kind of torture before and he was bluffing.

     Good for me.

     He should crack easy.

     Blood spits from his wound like a burst pipe. It lands on the robe, my hands and my stockings.

     It's warm still.

     I pull the knife back, resting my wrist on my knee. "You ready to talk yet?"

     I remain patient and calm even though I'm on a time limit. He doesn't know that and the impression that I can keep this up all night will be a form torture for him on it's own.

     "J-J-Jesus Christ, you're fucking crazy! I don't know anything, please! I'm not lying!" He's begging, crying, spit running down his chin faster than his words. He's panicking, breaking easy like I'd expected.

     I analyse him for a moment.

     My instinct tells me he's telling the truth, making me curse. He was one out of three; One of them  _had_ to know.

     And the other two were dead thanks to yours truly.

     So if I was correct, we'd fucked up somewhere.

_Shit._

     He was our last lead, I couldn't give up that easy. So I press the knife back into his skin, this time going to his little finger, the most painful digit.

     He screams, shouts and cries this time, words bubbling from his mouth incoherently. My instincts tell me the same as before but I ignore them and dig the blade in harder.

     He's our last hope of finding the Leader.

     I remove the knife before he passes out from the pain. He heaves heavily, begging me. I don't feel an ounce of guilt, knowing that he deserved this and worse for the things he's done.

     I go to ask him again even though I suspect the answer will remain the same but before I get the words out, a ear-piercing shot rings out.

     I jump, startled at the noise.

_What the fuck?_

     It couldn't be his men, they wouldn't be awake yet.

**_Bang_.**

     It sounds again, shortly followed by another. I quickly realise it's the same weapon being discharged over and over again.

     But no one was shooting in return.

**_Bang_.**

    Another moment of realisation washes over me – it's getting closer. Antonio must have noticed the same thing because he shouts for help again.

     "Shut up," I hiss at him. "Your men carry AK's. Does that sound like a rifle to you?"

**_Bang._ **

     His face pales as he catches on.

     Whoever it was, wasn't here to help him.

     More than likely, they were here to kill him.

     And I assume they were killing the unconscious henchmen one-by-one.

     Unhurried, but getting closer by the second.

     Which gave me a very small time slot to make a decision. I couldn't care less about this piece of shits life but he was our only chance. Even if he really didn't know who ran the show, maybe he'd be able to help find out somehow...

**_Bang_.**

     "Shotgun," I note. "Pump-action. Shit."

     There's a good chance Antonio's head will get blasted off before I even have a chance to save him.

     But I had to try.

     I cut off a piece of extra rope which hung from his tied hands and quickly shoved the material in his mouth, before securing it to his head with a knot. He made a weak sound of protest but seemed to realise that neither of us wanted him to die right now and I was his best chance.

     "Don't do anything stupid," I growl at him before rushing over to the dead henchmen. I grab the AK I'd previously abandoned and threw it under the bed before hitting the light switch and following it under. Mine still remained on my back.

     I wouldn't need it yet.

**_Bang._ **

     I grip the handle of the knife.

**_Bang._ **

     I couldn't see anything other than the light under the door.

**_Bang._ **

     He's close now. Had to be in the hall. There was no one left to kill.

     Two black shadows appear in the light. His feet.

     My fingers clench around the knife.

     He pumps his weapon.

     I hold my breath.

 ** _Bang_.**  He shoots the lock. The door flies open swiftly after.

     He steps into the room, weapon raised, searching.

     I can't see his face. He's a shadow, the light behind him giving him almost an angelic aura.

 _Yeah - Angel Of Death_.

     I  _can_  make out how big he is though. Much taller than me (but hell at Five foot Four most people were). Shoulders broad, hoody up with a hat. I wouldn't be able to grab his hair and slit his throat.

     He probably had it like that on purpose. That and to hide his appearance, although a mask would be better for that. Even in the shadows I could tell he wasn't wearing one.

     There's a click and then a light beams from under the barrel of his shotgun. It lands on Antonio who starts to beg for his life from beneath the gag.

 _Good, distract him_.

     "Well, shit," the intruder rasps, sounding amused. "You ain't looking so good, huh?" He steps towards him and I brace myself for my next move. "Someone get to you before me?" He tuts. "Ain't that a damn shame."

     I watch his feet closely. Another step.

     Not yet...

     He moves forward again and my fingers curl against the carpet, toes digging into the fibres.

     Ready.

_Go._


	2. The One With Frank

* * *

  _Hear a knock on the door and the night begins_   
_Cause we done this before so you come on in_   
_Make yourself at my home, tell me where you been_ _  
_ _Pour yourself something cold, baby, cheers to this_

_-Flo Rida, My House_

* * *

**The One With The Frank**

I pull myself forward and pounce. The AK catches on the wooden bed frame, snapping the strap as I emerge, giving away my attack.  _Rookie_ mistake but I roll with it.

He's bigger than me, stronger for sure.

But I'm smaller and faster.

He manages to turn enough to shoot, the pellets grazing my side as I jump onto his back, arms around his neck. I hiss, trying to ignore the pain but I find my arms shaking with it.

_Dammit._

He grunts, my legs tightening on his hips. He drops his gun, one hand going to my leg and the other to my forearms. He captures the hand holding the knife seconds away from it slitting his throat. Puts enough pressure against it to make me whimper and drop it, joining his on the ground.

_Fuckkkk._

Not only was I injured but I was unarmed.

I go with my last option and try to strangle him instead. The pain in my side mostly numbed now thanks to the adrenaline.

He quickly catches on and steps towards the bed before a reaching a hand behind him and flipping me over his head. I bounce as I land on the mattress, the movement jolting my wound.

In the corner, Antonio continues to scream.

I release a pained breath, holding a hand to my side and feeling the sticky blood coat my fingers. I roll, getting to my knees and ready to attack again when he lands on me, body pinning mine easily.

I get a face full of duvet, one arm stuck under my stomach and the other held down by my head thanks to him.

_Well, this won't do._

I relax for a moment, letting him believe I've given in. As soon as I feel him do the same, I throw my head back. I wince at the contact but remind myself it would have hurt him more than it did me.

"Fuck," he growls.

The knock forces him onto his back and I attempt to escape only for him to grab me again. His fingers tangle in my robe and pull me to him. Once I was close enough, his arm wrapped around my chest, one hand on my breast, securing me to him, my back to his front and both of us on our side.

"Hey!" I push at his arm in an attempt to dislodge him.

"Ah, Jesus Christ." He pulls his hand away from my breast like I'd just burnt him. I got the impression he hadn't meant to do that.

Perhaps until now he'd assumed I was a man.

At least he was a gentlemen while we were trying to kill each other.

I try to throw myself off the bed, my goal the knife on the floor but he catches me again, hands fisting my robe he easily pulls me back again. Kneeling behind me, he forces me up, my knees supporting me. Once my back hits his chest he's reaching in front of me and gripping my wrists together.

He's persistent, I'll give him that.

But so am I.

I try to headbutt him again but he's ready for it this time.

_Fuckkk._

"Easy, easy," he murmurs, sounding less threatening than I'd expected. It startles me, making me frown.

My tangled mess of hair tickles my nose.

"You fight like a bitch," I inform him, out of breath. "Asshole," I add because  _shit_ , he freaking  _shot_ me.

"Sorry, sorry," he breathes. "I didn't - ah,  _shit_  – I didn't know you were a-" he stops. Pauses. Shakes his head. Chooses his words better. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

To say I was taken back was an understatement.

He's  _concerned?_

Because I'm a  _girl?_

I didn't know if I found it sweet, or if I was offended.

He still doesn't let me go, which is smart of him.

"You shot me," I state matter-of-factly.

His hands tighten on my wrist.

"God dammit," he curses under his breath. "Let me take a look at'cha, yeah?" I don't respond so he tries again. "I won't hurt you, all right? I'm gonna let you go now, so don't go all wildcat on me again."

_Wildcat_ , I almost smile in amusement.

_I like it._

"Ok," I agree, deciding to give him a chance.

He releases me slowly, leaning back, hands hovering in case I make a move.

Curiosity burns through me and I turn, looking at him over my shoulder. The movement irritates my wound and I place a hand on it.

He's wearing a hood with a black wool hat. The light from the hall illuminates his face just enough for me to notice he's a very handsome man.

Bow shaped lips.

Stubble.

Dark eyes.

Strong jaw.

His nose stood out the most, the shape telling me it'd been broken one-too-many times. It took nothing away from his attractiveness though.

He takes me in too, his expression giving nothing away.

"We good?" He eventually rasps.

"Uh-huh." And I was telling the truth. Looking at him now, I didn't feel as if he was a threat to me. He could easily over power me and kill me but he'd let me go. "And I'm fine, by the way. Just a scratch."

I climb off the bed and flick on the light. He looks reluctant to let me do so. Pulling the robe tighter around me, I press down on my wound again. Ok so it might have been more than a scratch but it wasn't life threatening. I wouldn't be able to walk so easy if it was.

I glance at Antonio who'd calmed down somewhat.

"What is it you want with him?" I ask, eyes cutting back over to the hooded man, surprised to find him next to me, and still looking at me.

I couldn't be sure whether it was because he was still trying to work me out, or he was keeping a close eye on me in case I decided to go back on our truce and grab a weapon.

He peers down at me, the height difference making me feel smaller than usual. The top of my head just about reached his shoulders. "Same thing as you, I'm thinkin'."

Ah, cryptic answer. Doesn't want to give too much away.

I, on the other hand, don't give a shit.

"I wanna know where to find their boss, and this piece of shit is going to help me."

He nods. "Yeah, then." We both glance over at our prisoner. "He tell you anything?" He questions, stepping towards him menacingly.

Antonio squirms and starts to beg again.

"Nah," I shake my head, making my own way towards him when I suddenly feel woozy. "Whoa," I breathe with a small stumble, barely managing to catch myself with the wall.

I leave a smeared bloody hand print on the paint.

My new partner curses, hovering close in case I fall. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

"Oh no way in hell." I shake my head, determined. "Not until I get answers."

He sighs, standing in front of me. "Let me-" he trails off, kneeling down and peeling my hand along with the robe away from my bloodied skin. "Ah, shit. You got a few pellets in ya. Need to get 'em out."

"After," I say firmly, ignoring the burning throb in my side which is progressively getting worse. "I'm not letting this opportunity walk away because I'm  _hurt."_

I refused. It took too long for me and Dan to set this up.

He stands, grabbing my hand and placing it back against my side. "I ain't sayin' we let him go. I got somewhere we can take him. Get some answers and get you patched up, yeah?"

I raise my eyebrows at that. "You...you expect me to just go with you?"

"If I was going to kill you, I would'a done it, don't ya think?"

"Two conditions."

"Name 'em." He crosses his arms over his bullet-proof chest.

"You let me have a gun, and I text my friend where we're going."

"You trust your friend?" His expression doesn't change.

"We work together. So yes."

He considers, and then nods. "Fair enough."

* * *

He takes us to a remote cabin in the woods.

I liked it, although the interior was awfully dusty and full of cobwebs. Spiders,  _urgh._  I doubt he lives here, it didn't look  _liveable_ , and considering the 'tools' spread over various surfaces, I imagine it was used for a single purpose – torture.

He shows no mercy as he straps Antonio down on a chair in the centre of the room. The under-boss begs him all the while, giving up and trying to get pity from me when the my new friend's exterior doesn't shift.

I only smirk at him, tilting my head. Give him a little wave. Did he really expect me to help him after torturing him myself only an hour before? He really must be stupid.

My side throbs as if reminding me of my wound and I press down on it harder, leaning heavily against the surprisingly sturdy table behind me. My legs were wobbly - hell, I felt jittery all over if I'm being honest. I'd rather be sitting down but thanks to my short-ass, I couldn't get my butt onto the table without jumping and hurting myself further.

So I remain standing, placing most of my weight on the table, and hoping I don't fall.

_God_ , that would be embarrassing.

I watch as my new friend picks up some tools and lines them up, taking his time to check them over, purposely taunting Fat Fuck. I smile, admiring his style.

And his ass...

And, Jesus,  _okay,_  everything else too. He really,  _really_ was a fine specimen of a man. His clothing was simple, all black; black boots, black combat pants, long sleeves black shirt with the sleeves rolled up(fucking  _swooning_ ) and black bullet-proof vest. All of it fit to his body like it was made for him.

The prominent veins on his bare arms catch my eye, shifting as he moves and reaches, and -  _for fuck sake –_  I find myself pressing my thighs together.

I hadn't been interested in sex for a while now. Probably about- wow, two years?  _Damn._  My lack of libido started shortly after mine and Dan's mutual interest in taking down every fucking trafficking gang in the city.

I guess getting touched by ugly, evil, men for a living and listening to girls get raped really put a damper on sex. Who knew?

And also who knew it'd take a man like  _him_  to awaken it again.

Eh who am I kidding – he could probably convert a freaking nun.

_Holy shit that's a hot fantasy right there._

The sound of a tap stuttering to life brings me out of my thoughts. My new friend is washing his hands. When he's finished he picks up a cloth and dries them before heading towards me.

I clear my throat, pretending I hadn't just been thinking what it'd be like for him to corrupt me.

"You ready?" He asks gruffly.

I swallow, struggling to pull my mind from the gutter.

_Dear god please be asking if I'm ready to fuck you._

"F-for what?"

It's the blood loss, that's all. That's why I'm acting like way.

Yeah...I'm lying to myself.

Sue me.

He gestures to my mid-section. "Patch you up."

I nod dumbly. Right. Of course. I should have fucking known that.  _Dumb-ass._ "U-uh, yeah, guess so."

"Hey." His voice softens along with his face. He must have taken my stutter as a sign of nerves. "It'll probably hurt like a bitch, nothin' I can do 'bout that, but I'll go easy on you, yeah? You need a break just tell me."

Even though his assumption is wrong – pain doesn't bother nor scare me – I don't correct him because frankly, I find it sweet as hell.

_There I go, swooning again._

_Urgh._

I take a breath. "Ok." I glance around, trying to find the best place to do this but find none. Guess the table will have to do. "Is here good?"

"Yeah, yeah." He turns and searches the duffel bag on the counter he'd brought in from the van. Bundling something up, he then hands it to me. "Lay back. Put this under your head."

I lay back with a small grimace when the movement tugs and pulls at my skin before doing as he says and using the item as a makeshift pillow. Saving him from doing it, I tug the blood-soaked robe away, letting the material fall against the table.

It occurs to me for a moment that I'm in some kinky-ass underwear in front of a complete stranger but then I remind myself that I don't give a shit because I have a banging body and have never been the shy type.

_(Lies. I fucking hate the fat around my stomach and Jesus Christ girl lose the cellulite around your ass and thighs.)_

"I'm Frank, by the way."

"Frank." I roll the name around in my mouth, eyes on his face. It suits him. "I'm Ellie."

Frank nods but his gaze stays on my stomach. There's something in his expression, he looks troubled...angry – ah, guilty. He shakes his head with a long exhale. "I'm real sorry about this, Ellie. And,  _Jesus,_ for touchin' you the way I did back there. I don't want you thinkin' I was – I was tryna perv on you or anythin'. You aren't in any danger of  _that_ , not with me, okay? _"_

I frown.

It's clear this was really playing on his mind.

"It's okay, Frank, really." I lick my lips, hoping my voice tells him how honest I'm being. "I believe you."

"Good, good." He's nodding again, pulling over a chair and sitting down. Hands hovering over my wound as if he's hesitant to touch. "S'long as you know you're safe with me."

My lips part and I find myself speechless as I search for words. How could someone so deadly, hard, dangerous, brutal – the list goes on – be so soft at the same time?

I could imagine how it looked to him. A small girl like me injured and alone with a big guy like him,  _a murderer._ He must have thought I was scared and he was trying to reassure me.

I wasn't, of course. It took a lot to unsettle me. I had confidence In my ability to look after myself but I had to admit, he was one of the more terrifying people I'd come across.

His eyes drill into mine as if to convince me further, but it felt like it was so much more than that. Those eyes looked straight through me, like they knew me. Understood me. Pitied me? Did he feel sorry for me and my choices that had led me to where I was? He couldn't possibly know my life story just by eye contact...right?

I stare straight back, wondering how a simple look could be so intense that my toes were actually curling. Haunted eyes, dark as the night, somehow manage to appear tender at the same time.

He didn't have his hoody on any more, or his hat. His hair was black, or the darkest shade of brown. Shorter at the sides, longer on top. Military cut. Huh, that'd explain a lot actually.

Realising that we'd been staring long enough for it to become uncomfortable, I give him an awkward smile before glancing away. I didn't like how it had made me feel. My insides twisted in a way they hadn't in a long time.

"I'm ready," I tell him, hating how much voice wavers.


	3. The One With The Answers

* * *

_I still believe in your eyes_ **  
** _There is no choice, I belong to your life_ **  
** _Because I will live to love you someday_ _****  
_ _You'll be my baby and we'll fly away_

– Gigi D'Agostino, L'amour Toujours

* * *

**The One With The Answers**

"So you usually run around torturin' mobs in your underwear?"

His questions tickles me but I try to keep my laugh low and steady, not wanting to jolt the hands resting against my stomach and attempting to tweezer the pellets from my flesh.

I'm glad he's trying to distract me. Whiskey only numbs so much without getting completely smashed and I still needed my answers so that wasn't an option.

"Only on Tuesdays," I joke and I swear I see the corner of his lips lift. "Nahhh, It's just... you know...what's a better way to take them out than from the inside?"

"Yeah, hey - I get it." His eyes don't move from where his working. "Smart, really. Who'd suspect a tiny girl like you?"

"Not them, that's for sure. Been doing like for a few years now and, man, they're  _easy_."

I hiss when a piece of skin gets pinched by the tweezers. He swiftly apologizes and then tries again, this time successful pulling out the small lead ball.

He holds it up between the tweezers. "One more to go."

"Awesome." My words are less than enthusiastic.

"How'd you get yourself inside anyway?" There's a clang when he places the pellet into a small bowl before he goes digging for the next one.

I try and stop myself from wiggling in discomfort. "Ahhh a girl can't spill all her secrets on the first date, Frank."

He chuckles. "Alright, alright." He doesn't push and that reason alone is why I find myself spilling the goods.

"We've been watching 'em for awhile, me and my friend, and-" I trail off. Was I telling him too much? Should I be more cautious? I take a moment to think and he glances up at me questioningly, most likely wondering why I'd stopped.

Leaning up on my elbows with my chin almost touching my chest, I find myself searching his face once again. It was effortless to get caught up in his gaze. Like watching a car crash – you know you should look away but you just  _can't_. His eyes were like falling into a black hole, not being able to escape even if you wanted to.

Shit, why had I stopped again? What had I been talking about?

It was so easy to get lost in him.

It was so easy to trust him.

 _Get a hold of yourself._   _Fuck._

"I don't know if I should tell you," I admit quietly and fucking hell, I don't know  _why_. "I don't even know you other than we both want the same thing right now."

Frank's expression changes to one of understanding. "Yeah." He clears his throat with a nod. "Yeah, I get it. Don't'chu worry, you don't have'ta tell me anythin' you don't wanna."

"Why are you after their leader?"

"He's an ass-hole who deserves to die." His voice his gruff, attention back on my wound. "It's..." Head tilt. "Kinda what I do, y'know? Jail's too good for guys like him. Not permanent enough."

"Huh."

"What?"

I drag my teeth over my lower lip. "Similar deal with me and Dan." Shit, I just dropped Dan's name without meaning to. What the fuck was it about this guy that made him so easy to talk to? "It's...What they do...the trafficking...it's a sore subject for us."

He doesn't ask why and I'm grateful.

I take a breath. "And police can't do shit.  _Won't_ do shit. So we took it into our own hands. Infiltrating them is easy. Dan, he's smart. I dunno how he does half the shit he does but I wouldn't be able to do it without him. He sets it all up so I'm at the right place at the right time."

Frank stays quiet but I know he's listening from the way he angles his head with the odd nod and glance. He doesn't reply until the next – and last – pellet is removed.

"Anything you tell me stays between us." The simple sentence reassures me although deep down my instincts already told me that. Either way it was nice to hear it from him.

"Thank you."

He wipes down my bloody skin with a cloth before sticking some gauze on it. "I'll get you some clothes."

"That'd be great." I thank him again, pulling myself up and watching as he searches through his bag. He pulls out some gray work out pants and black shirt. He hands them to me and glances down at my stocking covered feet. "I haven't got any shoes."

I slide off the table. "It's fine." I remove the robe, placing the clothes temporarily on the table. I put the shirt on, arms first. It's long-sleeved and I struggle to get it over my head without agitating my wound.

"Here." I feel more than I see him grab the material, and he helps me get my head through. "I've got you."

"Thanks," I say  _again,_  probably sounding like an idiot but I can't help having manners. Gently he grips either side and slides it down over my breasts and stomach until it hands around my thighs. "Jesus, I'm dwarfed it in."

"Yeah, you are." He chuckles and I smile, liking that I can make him laugh.

I expect him to stop there but instead he rolls up the sleeves until their past my elbow, just like his own, and then he grabs the pants and kneels. I place my feet inside, one-by-one and then he's pulling them up to my hips and tightening the string so they don't fall. I got the impression he wasn't aware of his actions, not completely. Almost as if he was moving on autopilot.

I wonder if he has kids. I felt like a child getting dressed by their parent. It was a very maternal thing to do. More innocent than I would have thought a man dressing a half-naked woman could be.

It was nice, actually.

Not at all pervy like I imagined most guys would be like. Then again with my profession I dealt with sleezy men on the daily so maybe my opinion was pretty tainted.

"I'll get'cha some socks. Don't want you treadin' on anythin'." He goes to reach for his bag.

I stop him. "Frank, it's fine, seriously." I can't help but smile 'cause he's so damn adorable. "Thank you though. Really."

"Yeah. Yeah, you said that." He places his hands on his hips. "About five times, actually." His lips quirk and I laugh, embarrassed that he'd noticed.

When I stop, I realise that we're staring at each other again. He didn't look away and I found myself not wanting to either even if I didn't understand it. A sound to our left interrupts us and we both look over.

Antonio.

Damn, I'd forgotten he was here.

And I'd been running my mouth off.

"We're gonna kill him after, right?" I question worriedly. Antonio renews his struggle, fighting against the bonds and rag in his mouth.

"Yeah, when he gives us what we need."

"Alright good." Together we step forward, my shoulder brushing against his arm. My sleeves slip and I push them back up before crossing my arms over my chest. "Where'd you wanna start?"

We stare down at him.

"Ah...I got a few ideas," Frank rasps.

* * *

After two hours of non-stop pain, our prisoner is nothing but a sobbing pile of blood-stained clothes who continued to insist he knew nothing of their leader or his location.

I sigh heavily, leaning back against the wall. "Maybe I got it wrong with the other guys." My eyes remain on Antonio through the broken doorway, my voice quiet so he wouldn't be able to hear our exchange. "Maybe one of them knew something."

Although I was confident I'd read them right. I hadn't made a mistake like this since the beginning when we'd first started and was still learning the ropes. I can't imagine how I'd fucked up so bad but I  _must_ have.

It wasn't unusual for only one under-boss to know the leaders true identity. The less people who knew, the better. But for none of them to know seemed awfully far fetched. And this guy was too weak, he'd never endured torture before – that much was obvious – so there's no way he was holding out on us.

So the one with the knowledge must have been one of the ones I'd killed.

Shit.

Frank looks over at me before shaking his head. "If you were as thorough with them as I've seen you be with him, you did everythin' right." He strides over to the door frame and leans an arm against it, watching him for a moment before backing up. I got the impression he didn't wanna stand still, adrenaline keeping him on his feet. "Nah, there's somethin' else."

"I don't see us getting it from him, though."

"Nah," he agrees, pulling a hand-gun out from the back of his pants and checking the bullets. "Nah, he's done." Satisfied, he slides the mag back into place before heading back into the room. I push away from the wall and follow closely.

The gag now hanging around his neck, Antonio starts to beg. His words flying from his mouth along with spit. "Please,  _please_ , oh god I'm begging you,  _don't do this_. Please-"

"Shut up," Frank growls, placing the barrel against his forehead.

"W-wait, wait,  _wait!_ Ask Giovanni, he might know!"

Frank freezes and my heart jumps. Lips parted, I step closer, intrigued. Frank glances over his shoulder at me and we share a knowingly look.

 _Finally, we got something_.

Antonio caught on, his voice rising. "Yes, yes! Giovanni Turino! He runs the Nighthouse club across town.  _Please don't kill_ me!"

I ignore him. "Who is he to Red Ring?" I question.

"He's an under-boss like me. The others don't know about him. Only me.  _Please_ , I told you want you want, don't kill me!"

"Holy shit," I breathe, insides pinching excitedly.  _Another_ under-boss? I can't believe I hadn't considered this although I had no reason to. I smile, relieved that the mission wasn't lost. " _Holy shit_ , Frank."

My joy must have been contagious because Frank shook his head with a breathy laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, holy shit." He presses the barrel harder against Antonio's head. "Anything else you gotta tell us?"

"N-no, that's it! T-that's all I know! I s-swear!"

Frank pulls the trigger. A ear-piercing  _bang_  ricochets around the cabin.

"Fair enough," he responds gruffly to the now-dead under-boss. Placing his gun back into his pants, he turns away from the body.

"-I gotta text Dan-" I say at the same time he opens his mouth and tells me:

"-I'm gonna call Mirco-"

I pause at that. "Mirco?" I question, having not heard that name until now.

"My friend," he clarifies.

"Ahh." I nod. "You got your own Dan, huh?"

"Yeah." He chuckles. "Yeah, somethin' like that."


	4. The One With Max

* * *

_It is hard to let it all go_ _  
_ _Let the past just disappear_ _  
_ _Try to run time from an old life_ _  
_ _But it always drags me down_

_\- Michael Schulte, Falling Apart_

* * *

**The One With Max**

" _You're an idiot."_

"Dan-"

" _You ignore my texts, run off with a strange guy who murders people-"_

"Hey,  _I_ murder people-" I dead-pan, only slightly offended.

" _The last thing I heard from you was a freaking address in the middle of no-where!"_

"At least I told you where I was-"

" _And to top it off, you ignore all my calls! You could have been killed, Ellie!"_

I pinch my nose, throwing my head back against the passenger seat of Franks van. Street lights illuminate the inside when as we pass. "You done?"

He pauses.  _"Yes."_

"Good, now  _listen_  to me. Christ, you sound like my Mom."

" _Hey..."_ I just know that he's frowning and it almost makes me smile.

"We have a lead."

" _Yeah, you said that in the text. Just get to the point."_

" _Dude,_  it was you who decided to call me and bitch like a-"

" _Ok, ok. Enough now. You've already given me a heart-attack, I don't need an aneurysm too."_

I roll my eyes;  _As if_  it wasn't his  _own_ fault for over reacting. He knows I can take care of myself. "I need you to find as much information as you can about a.." I turn to Frank, frowning as I forget the name.

Jesus, I'm useless sometimes.

"Giovanni Turino. Runs a club called The Nighthouse," Frank reminds me. He'd already spoken to that Micro guy (and got equally the same amount of shit from him as I did from Dan. Apparently he doesn't like me and Frank working together on this).

"Thanks," I tell him. "You get that?" I ask Dan.

" _Yeah, yeah, I heard it."_ There was the sound of a key board.

"Good. Also, you aren't the only one looking for information on him so don't show us up, yeah?" I grin, unable to stop myself from glancing at Frank again. He shakes his head in amusement, eyes on the road.

" _What?"_  He sounds panicked.  _"Oh god Ellie you know how much competition stresses me out. Last time I didn't poop for a week!"_

I snort. "You'll be fine. Let me know what you find." With that, I hang up, throwing my phone onto the dash.

"So that's Dan," Frank comments.

"That's Dan." I nod.

We drive in silence for a little while, the odd conversation here and there. I find myself yawning and glance at the red numbers on the dash – just gone 2am. No wonder I was tired. Last night I barely slept, stuck in a dark room, laying on cushions with tied hands and a bunch of crying girls.

At least they're free now, me and Frank having let them go before we left.

"We'll be at the safe-house soon," Frank tells me, catching my yawn. "You can rest there."

I hum in agreement. "You should rest too. Could be a busy day tomorrow."

 _Well, hopefully_.

Silence fills the van once again and I decide to drown it out with some radio. Leaning forward I flick It on. "You mind?"

He grunts out a 'no'.

" _All my friends are settling down, they're only kids but they're married now. Lets follow the lights, follow the crowd. Baby, we gotta get out...Let's get out of this town..._ "

I smile at the song, recognising it. Leaning back against my seat and glancing out the window, I hum along, sometimes singing when I remember the words. I enjoy the car ride with Frank more than I probably should. It was comforting, calming, listening to music and staring out at the road.

Despite the chilly air outside, I roll down the window and close my eyes against the breeze, leaning my arm against the door and supporting my head on my hand.

If only it was this peaceful in Dan's RV. Most of the time he listened to classical music –  _ew_  - or we were bickering like brother and sister (we weren't, by the way).

The song ends and another comes on, this time I don't know it but listen to it nonetheless. It continues like that until Frank pulls up at a apartment building. I glance up at the tall structure.

It looked old; run down.

"This your safe-house?" I ask, glancing over at him.

He reaches behind him and pulls the bag out. "One of 'em."

We exit the van and I let Frank take the lead. We step inside and walk into an elevator. I swear it's going to break on us but luckily we make it to Frank's floor without a problem.

I follow him to a stained yellowish door. Frank pulls out his keys and opens it. A dog barks, barging against the door like there's no tomorrow.

I try not to squeal.  _Oh my god! He has a dog!_

Frank pauses. "You don't mind dogs, right?"

"Are you kidding me? I think I just wet myself. Let me at 'em!"

With a quirk of his lips, Frank manages to open the door against the dogs persistent nudging. A short haired canine runs out, circling Frank's feet. I wasn't sure on the breed, was never really good with all that, but he sure was cute as hell.

"Aw, he's missed you!" A quick glance underneath his stomach lets me know his gender.

Frank snorts. "I can't tell if he loves me or hates me half the time. Max stop!" he growls when Max's teeth latch onto the fabric of his bag.

I hide my grin behind my hand. It was a funny sight, watching as Frank attempted to get inside of the apartment with his dog dragged behind him by his teeth.

"This your usual welcome?" I ask, stepping inside behind them and closing the door. I take in the room – which is literally what it was. A double bed sat in the corner furthest away from the door, blanket half hanging on the floor. A suitcase stood next to it like a make-shift side cabinet, coffee mug toppled over on top of it.

The other corner sported a bath, sink and toilet, only separated by a green curtain which was currently pulled back. To the left of me was a single counter and fridge. Next to that was a table and single chair.

"Teeth? Yeah, pretty much." It took a hard tug but Max finally let go of the bag. The canine quickly loses interest and paddles over to me, tongue hanging out and lips spread wide.

It almost looked like he was smiling.

I melt.

"God, you're a gorgeous boy." I hold out my hands and go to stroke him only for Frank to pull him back by his collar.

I try not to pout.

I wanna stroke the fur-ball!

"You gotta..." Frank tilts his head, considering his words. "You gotta be careful, yeah? He can be an asshole. Max," he raises his voice, making eye contact with the dog. "You hurt her and you're gone, you got that?"

Max pants in response, tongue still dangling and teeth showing.

The threat of Max being an 'asshole' doesn't deter me. I crouch and Frank keeps a hold of his collar as I hold out a hand for Max to sniff, which he does enthusiastically before giving me a sloppy lick.

I giggle, adjusting my hand so I can stroke his head. Max allows it for a moment before giving me more doggy kisses.

"He seems ok," I comment.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe he's just like it with me. Micro says I must love the thing with the amount of chew-toys I get him. Truth is, I buy 'em hoping they'll tire his jaw before he gets to me."

I cut my eyes up to Frank's face, smile tugging at my lips. "I think Micro's got a point. If you didn't love him, why else would you even keep him?"

Frank shrugs and then deems it safe enough to let Max go. The canine quick closes the space between us, front paws landing on my uppers thighs so he can get to my face which he promptly kisses.

"Ok, ok," I laugh trying to push him away before I drown in slobber. "I like you too."

"Max, leave her alone," Frank orders and Max huffs but does as his master says, albeit reluctantly. I stand, watching him trot over to his blue dog bed decorated with white doggy paws.

"It's awesome that you've got a dog. I used to have one. She was my best friend growing up." I smile as I remember her.

"Take him if you want," he grumbles, searching through his post before dumping it into the trash.

I tut. "You don't mean that." Glancing around the room once more, I quickly realise something. "You don't have a couch."

"Nah."

I nod slowly. He wasn't catching on, was he? "It's ok."  _Well,_ not really but it'd have to be. "I'll crash on the floor."

Frank freezes. "Ah." He turns his gaze to the bed and stares for several moments. In fact, he's quiet for so long I consider asking if he's ok when he speaks up, "You take the bed. I doubt I'll sleep much anyway." His voice wavers slightly, softer and not as rough as it usually is.

I wonder what he'd been thinking about that made him act that way. Clearly it was something emotional.

"I don't feel comfortable taking your bed from you, Frank, and you need to rest too. We got a big day tomorrow hopefully." The  _big day_ will depend on how quickly we get the information and put a plan in place. "If you're down, we can share?"

He shakes his head almost immediately and looks over at me. I swear his eyes are red. "I-I can't do that." Was it just me or did he suddenly look unsteady on his feet? Christ. "I, uh, I-" He licks his lips, mouth moving but words not escaping.

"Frank?" I say softly. It's obvious this was hard for him. Guilt squeezes my insides. I shouldn't have said anything. I'd seen that something was bothering him and I should have kept my mouth shut.  _Good job, Ellie_. "It's ok, you don't have to-"

"My wife." He clears his throat. Averts his gaze. "She- They – I lost my family." He clears his throat again.

Realisation washes over me like a cold shower. "Fuck." I close my eyes. "Shit. Frank, I'm  _so_ sorry."

He nods numbly. "Yeah...yeah, so I can't just – I haven't shared a bed with anyone since...her."

My hand runs through my hair. Grips it. Wishes I could tear it out and cause myself the pain I'd clearly just inflicted on him, no matter how unintentional it was. "Jesus. Yeah. I understand. It's fine, Frank, really." I hesitate before adding, "I know might sound weird...haven't even known each other a full day...but if you need to talk...I'm here."

He nods again, looking more grounded this time. I want to hug him, give him comfort, but I'm not sure how well he'd handle it. How long ago had he lost them? Lost her? Physical contact like that from someone who wasn't his wife might trigger him and that's the last thing I want right now.

Suddenly I feel the need to take his mind off of it.

"So how'd you end up with Max?"

Frank looks down at the dog laying at on the floor at the end of the bed. He blinks as if just remembering this canine existed. And then chuckles dryly. "He was a guard dog. Some asshole's killed his owner. He took a few of 'em out, almost got himself killed. I saved him...and he bit me on the arm and leg for it."

It was my turn to blink. "He bit you and you kept him?"

Damn.

I mean, I  _love_ animals but I'm not sure I could bring one home that attacked me.

Frank shrugs. "Guess I just saw somethin' in him."

* * *

_**Why r u staying at this guys house?** _

Laying under the blanket of Frank's bed, I roll my eyes at Dan's protective – and  _nosey -_ text.

_**Cuz 1) we're working together on this. 2) it's late. 3) he didn't want me walking alone. 4) You'd bitch if I brought a stranger to your set-up, and 5) Don't you think it's a good idea to make sure he doesn't fuck off and do the mission himself?** _

The last part I didn't really care for, I didn't think Frank would do that, but it's a language Dan would understand.

Speaking of Frank, I lower the phone screen and squint through the darkness at the outline of the man in question sitting at the table. He was quiet, looking over some papers while occasionally glancing over at his phone and typing away. I assume he's talking to Micro, most likely exchanging information.

My phone flashes, grabbing my attention – Dan had responded. I'd turned the notification noises and vibrations off so I didn't disturb Frank.

_**Whatever. Anyway I researched this club n ur not going 2 like it.** _

_**Oh?**_ I respond, peering back over at Frank.

I'd assumed the expression on his face was due to our early conversation but considering Dan's text, I wonder if Micro had told him something about this club already. It'd certainly explain his troubled features.

My phone goes off again.

Instead of text message it's a picture. I click on it, enlarging it. It was black with red writing.

 **Nighthouse,**  it read.

My eyes widen when I notice a half-naked chick on it with a studded collar around her neck, a leash attached.

My mouth goes dry.

Eyes lowering, I find another line of text, confirming my fears.

**For all your fetish needs.**

_Holy shit._

I tap off of the picture and return to our chat, mouth agape.

 **Dan r u being serious?** I ask, hoping that he was just pulling a prank on me.

 **Ya** , he responds,  **N it gets better.**

I almost groan out loud.  **Explain!**

 **It's couples only.** I don't reply straight away, mind reeling, so Dan follows it up with another text.  **Guess it's a good thing u found that guy huh.**


	5. The One With Friends

* * *

_People ask me what I do_ _  
__I say that I'm chasing dreams_ _  
__I know they just think I'm crazy_ _  
__Putting faith in make believe_ _  
__I don't blame them_  
I don't blame them  
Cause some days I think the same  
Like I've been wasting my time  
But I don't got no time to change

–  _Ryan Caraveo, Paradise_

* * *

**The One With Friends**

"So we just turn up and they'll let us in?"

" _Yes,"_  A voice I've come to know as Micro answered me.  _"_ _I'll hack into their systems, put you on the guest list. Then I'll e-mail over the invitation and you'll have to print it out."_ He pauses.  _"_ _Unless you have time to drop by here, in which case I can do it for you."_

My lips curl. "You two should hack into it at the same time. See who can do it faster." I rip into my toast before plopping it into my mouth and throwing Frank a wink. His lips manage a small quirk before he sips his coffee.

" _For fuck sake, Ellie,"_ muttered Dan through the loud-speaker.

At the same time, Micro spoke through Frank's phone.  _"_ _Obviously me."_

" _What the fuck,"_ Dan exclaimed.  _"_ _There's no way."_

" _Let's try it, kid."_

" _I'm already on it, old man."_

I snort, giving a shrug at Frank's  _really_ expression. "It's funny," I tell him. A sudden pressure against my ankle, followed by a sharp sting, draws my attention downwards.

Max is there, laying on his front and – I blink, yeah, ok, so he's really doing  _that –_  his teeth are clamped around my leg. Not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to hurt.

"Why." I'm so confused.

He wags his tail, looking up at me, mouth remaining in place.

I look up at Frank, alarmed and bewildered. Frank frowns at me, places his coffee on the table and steps to the side so he can see what I'm distressed about.

"Max," he scolds when he sees. "Let go," he orders firmly.

Max only wags his tail harder, butt swaying with the movement.

"Jesus Christ," Frank curses, leaning down. "He's not pierced skin, has he?"

"No, no," I quickly assure him. "He's just... kind of leached on there." Tearing off a bit of crust, I throw it at him, thinking maybe that's what he wants.

It bounces off his head and he doesn't even blink.

"Your dog is weird," I comment, tilting my head at him. I vaguely hear Dan ask what's happening. I pick up my coffee and take a sip.

Frank only grunts in response, standing up and heading over to the cupboard. He pulls out a can of dog meat and opens it before emptying it in a bowl and striding back over to us. He places it next to Max.

Max sniffs and then slowly lets go of me. His interest now on his food. He sticks his snout into the bowl and scoffs it down.

I tuck my legs underneath me, sitting cross-legged in the chair so he can't get to my ankles again. "What time do we show?" I ask the boys, getting back on track.

" _It starts at 9,"_ Dan tells me.

" _Do you want me to sort the invitation or you gonna do it yourself, Frank? It'd be nice to see you, you know."_ That's Micro.

Frank snorts. "I was with you less than forty-eight hours ago. You missin' me already?"

Micro stutters.  _"_ _No! It's just nice to have company. It gets lonely here. I've gotten used to you being around."_

"Aw, he's missing your musk," I coo. Micro tells me to shut it and Frank laughs.

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be home soon then we can snuggle all night on the sofa, yeah?" Frank teases him, not being able to keep a straight face. I grin at him. "Hell – I'll even run you a bubble bath, how's that sound?"

Micro grumbles under his breath before saying,  _"_ _Just tell me when you want the damn invitation._ " and hanging up.

"Swear, it's like being married again." Frank shakes his head and strides over to the table where he picks up his coffee and downs it. "Better go see him before he thinks I'm cheatin' on him with another man." He goes to step past me but hesitates. "I'd take you with me but...I don't think he'd be too happy..."

I wave him off, taking one last sip of my coffee and leaving the rest. "It's fine." I stand and stretch. I was still wearing Frank's clothes. I needed to get another outfit, especially for tonight. "I need to go see Dan anyway. Get a change of clothes. Should I meet you back here?"

I check my phone, Dan was still on the line but I couldn't hear him. He was either distracted, not listening, or outside the RV having a smoke. So I hang up and send him a quick  _see you soon_ text. I pocket the phone before I place my cup and crumb-filled plate in the sink.

"Yeah." Frank grabs his keys. Pats Max on the head. The canine, still eating his food, growls in response. We head to the door. "Around 5, good? Give us time to go over the plan."

"Perfect," I agree. He lets us out and I say a quick goodbye to Max.

"Need a lift?" Frank asks when we reach outside.

I pull the sleeves of his shirt down my arms, feeling chilly. "Nah. Like your guy, Dan wouldn't be too happy."  _He'd bitch like an old lady if I showed a stranger his set-up,_ I think but don't say.

He nods and then, "Cold?" He goes to remove his black hoody.

My eyes widen and I step back. "No, no. Don't worry. It's not far from here and-"

"Just take it." When I make no move to, he steps forward and places it around my shoulders. Like his shirt, it dwarfs me. I must look ridiculous. "Give it back to me tonight, yeah?"

He looks good in that black shirt, tight against his muscles. I could see the outline of his pecks through it. Clearing my throat, I force my eyes away. "Yeah, uh, yeah, ok. Thanks."

We say our goodbyes.

I walk a for a few minutes before pulling my phone out of my pocket and calling Dan.

" _Bonjour."_

I roll my eyes. "You don't know French."

" _Well_ obviously  _I do."_

I make a face. "No...Just because you know  _one word_  doesn't mean you know French."

" _Bite me."_ A car engine rumbles behind me.

"Urgh, no thanks. I don't wanna catch a disease."

" _Hey, fuck you."_

"Come pick me up?"

" _Turn around."_

I do, and smile, because trust Dan to already be here. He probably parked nearby as soon as I sent him the address. "Hi." I wave.

I see him smile through the front window.  _"_ _Get inside already."_

* * *

"Frank..." He says the name slowly, and then he says it again.

"Yes, Frank. Have you had brain damage since I last saw you?" I question, sitting at the table where Dan had all his computers. It used to be the RV's eating area – a built in table and chairs – before he converted it.

"His name is Frank..." He stands from the drivers seat and walks towards me. "And he kills bad guys..."

"Yeah, so?" I peek at one of the screens, looking at everything he'd gather. Or  _lack of_. Usually we'd have a picture of the target, location, other club members but with this one, we only had a list of names, most of which were aliases.

I hope Micro had managed to find more than this or we were going in blind.

"Jesus Christ, El!" He exclaims hard enough to flop a piece of light brown hair into his eyes, making him look younger than his 27 years. "You've made friends with The freaking Punisher! I mean, shit, I always knew he was alive. You just can't kill someone like him easily."

My mouth forms an 'O'. I'd heard stories of this guy mostly from Dan. After all, It had been Dan's idea for us to do what we do, his inspiration found in one man alone – The Punisher.

" _We can stop this from ever happening again, Ellie,_ "  _he'd practically begged me. "We couldn't save her but we can save others. Just like he does, El. We can take it into our own hands."_

" _I don't know..." I hesitated, my heart aching from the loss of our friend, and anger burning through my veins from the lack of help from the authorities. "Am I just supposed to just quit my job? Chase bad guys? Kill people? You're crazy, Danny."_

" _We can learn!"_

 _I scoff. "No, it's_ me  _who'd learn. You're too soft for all that, Dan, and you know it."_

" _Ok but I can help with research and the computer side of things. You've shot a gun before, Ellie, you can do it again."_

 _I take a step back as if it's words had hit me physically. "Danny..." I was hurt. "You_ know  _that wasn't easy for me. I still have nightmares for fuck sake."_

" _I know, I'm sorry, but the point is – you can do it. Don't you want to do something about this, El? We can change the world!"_

" _We can't change the world, Danny, that's just- just a dream." I shook my head. "Same as we can't get her back."_

" _But we can_ try _."_

My memory fades and I sigh. "Guess I should thank him." My eyes cut to Danny who looks ready to burst out of excitement. "If it wasn't for him, you'd never have dragged me into all this."

He frowns. "You make it sound like a bad thing."

_Maybe it is. I gave up my life for revenge and sometimes I wonder if it's worth it._

"It's not. We make a difference. We save people. What kind of life would I of had working in that cafe anyway?"

_One without blood, death, maybe a family, husband, kids, hell a dog like Max..minus the teeth. Maybe I'd even live past 30._

"Yeah, that's it. We do good, Ellie." Dan smiles.

"M'hm. Anyway, what'd you think I should wear to this gig?"

"Black or red. Short. Lowcut." He lists. "Got anything like that?"

I think of the dress in my bag, tucked away right at the bottom. It makes me think of Katie.  _Every girl needs a little black dress, Ellie._  "Yeah. I got something."

* * *

"So, wanna tell me what went through your head now that she's not around?"

Frank Castle groans. Barely out of his van and David was giving him a earful. He slams the door, heads up two steps and turns into the small living area separated by squared, metal bars. Pretends he can't seem Mirco's glare burning into his back.

"Good to see you too, David." He places the bag on the bed, empties it. "You got a suit or somethin'?

"What in the hell would I need a suit for, Frank?"

"Dammit." He'd have to try Curt. Glancing at his watch, he figures he'd have enough time to stop by as long as he didn't stay here for longer than a hour. He repacks his shit, weapons and other necessities, spare vest, checks his bullets, makes sure to leave enough room for the suit.

"Soooo you gonna answer my question?"

Frank stops. Stands up straight. Rolls his eyes to the ceiling and counts to three before figuring it was better to get it over and done with. He turns, strides forward and leans his arm around the metal door-frame like structure.

"What'd you wanna know?"

Micro throws his heads up, hair unkept as usual. "Uhhhh  _why_ would be nice."

"We both want the same thing."

"M'hm, and is that  _thing_ in each others pants?"

Frank scoffs. "Oh for god sake."

"It's a valid question."

" _Nah_ , man. It ain't like that." He represses the urge to go over there and punch him in the face. Didn't he realise the death of a spouse wasn't something you just moved on from? "She- she's all right, yeah? She's like me – wants to rid the world of scumbags. We get along. S'all."

"Right." He doesn't sound convinced.

He tightens his jaw. " _Right,"_ He parrots and then shakes his head. "Don't see why th'hell I gotta explain myself to you anyway."

Micro looks at him as if he can't believe he just said that. "Are you kidding – are you  _kidding_ me, Frank?" He steps forward, dressing gown swishing behind him, arm thrown out, sending coffee flying out of his mug. "You just let some strange girl help out on  _our_ mission. You're  _still_ letting her. It's like – it's like you didn't even hesitate and that scares me, Frank. What happens if you bring her here? What happens if she learns too much and  _blows everything_ , Frank? Huh? What happens then?"

Frank was already shaking his head. "Not gonna happen, man."

"Why? Because you aren't going to give her the chance, or because you think you can trust her?"

"Both, yeah? I ain't gonna bring her here but yeah, man, yeah I do trust her." He shook his head. "If you met her, you'd understand."

"You've known her less than a  _day_."

Frank runs his tongue over his teeth, inhales, gives a little laugh. "Took the same chance with you, didn't I?"

"That's different," David quickly responds. A little too fast.

"How?"

"It – it just is, ok?" David knew he was losing the argument. "Just, please Frank, think about my family because they'll be the ones to pay."

Frank softens at that. Takes a minute and then nods. "Yeah. Yeah, ok, man. Don't worry."

"Thank you."

Frank checks his watch again. Figures he'd have enough time to stop by that diner he liked before heading to Curt's. "Don't mention it. You get the invites?"

"Uh, yeah." David heads over to his computers and picks them up. Strides back over to Frank and hands them over. "Here." Frank takes them, tucks them into his pocket. "Look, I can't exactly get a drone inside but I can -"

"Nah, it's fine, man. We can handle it." That he was confident about.

"You really trust her that much?" He said it as if he couldn't believe it.

Frank doesn't answer straight away.

Thinks hard about when he first met her. Her fighting had been sloppy. He'd taken her effortlessly. If he hadn't stopped he'd have easily killed her. At first he'd thought she was one of the victims which is  _why_ he'd stopped in the first place, but that train of thought quickly changed when he'd seen what she'd done to the under-boss.

She knew how to inflict pain. She confessed to wanting the same thing as him. To an extent, she knew what she was doing but it all boiled down to one simple fact - Ellie was no threat to The Punisher.

She was just a kid tryna make a difference in the world, and not only had he crashed her gig, he'd also injured her in the process. She'd fully earned the right to put a bullet in the back of his skull but she didn't.

She seemed kinda sweet like that; too forgiving. Too trusting. The least he could do is pay her the same respect (albeit cautiously).

And, hell, it'd be nice to have another ally.

"Guess I do."

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I should continue or not!


End file.
